


The Statement for Felix Meier

by mbeth



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:24:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbeth/pseuds/mbeth
Summary: This is a novel that I'm currently writing. I'm adding a chapter here to get feedback or just see if it's likable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novel that I'm currently writing. I'm adding a chapter here to get feedback or just see if it's likable.

Well, I suppose this story starts in 1926. I know that’s quite a way back, but bear with an old man. I was school boy in Cochem. You see, my family paid for intermediate school for me and my sister. We were wealthy enough, which most people were not at that time in Germany. My friends Deidrick and Louisa stayed at home. While I’ve always enjoyed learning, I did envy Deidrick and Louisa. They got to spend the last warm days of the year outside playing by the river.

The very first friday, I sprinted as quickly as I could from the damped school to the riverside. The tall grass licked at my legs and the books I carried became heavier and heavier. As I rounded the valley, I could see Deidrick, with his mop of dark hair, and Louisa giggling loudly as they rolled in the grass. 

“Thomas,” Louisa shouted, more alerting Deidrick than any salutation to me. 

“You can’t catch us!” With that, Deidrick jumped up and began running alongside the Moselle. Louisa followed him, holding the blue ribbon in her hair, hoping it wouldn’t fly off into the water.

“That’s not fair,” I huffed. I tried to shout but I had already been running and was and about to collapse. As I leaned over to catch my breath, Louisa’s shoe got caught in the bank mud and she stopped.

I pushed a few more meters and caught her by the shoulders laughing. Deidrick stopped and walked back to us, sighing, “You didn’t win, though.”

“I didn’t lose though either,” I said, helping Louisa with her mary jane. She smiled at me, a gap toothed and freckle faced grin. She had a kind face, seafoam eyes wrapped with golden lashes. I understood why many of the boys fancied Louisa. 

“Thomas, do you mind if we meet up with Felix in a bit?” Deidrick asked as he was sorting out the tangled locks of his chestnut hair. “He promised to show us The Castle.”

My eyes moved up the valley to Castle Cochem. In the afternoon it would cast a shadow over the Moselle. 

“Who is Felix?” I asked mindlessly, still watching the sunlight haloing the crowned gargoyle.

“We met Felix this week,” Louisa added as she curled a finger in her hair. “He doesn’t have anymore school either. So we’ve been playing with him.” Her eyes softened as she looked at me, “You haven’t been replaced though.”

“He’s been inside The Castle.” Deidrick’s eyes widened with excitement. I could tell that he already thought Felix was far more interesting a friend than I was. Not only was he knew, but he was adventurous. 

Begrudgingly I said, “Sure. Let’s go meet up with Felix.”

Louisa squealed quietly with excitement. I could that tell she liked Felix more too; or was at least more excited about his friendship. Out of sight out of mind; that’s the saying. I was in school, out of sight, while they were having adventures. Suddenly, the great shadow that Castle Cochem was casting on our valley felt like the shadow of Felix. I didn’t know him and I already didn’t like him very much.

While we walked through the grasses and up the hill to The Castle, I thought about how I wanted to punch Felix. He was taking my best friends from me and there was nothing I could do about it.

When we finally reached the top of the hill I realized that I had left my books by the river. It was already getting dark and by the time I would have walked back down to my books, it would be impossible to distinguish them against rocks and branches. I’d have to come back tomorrow.  
Deidrick looked around briefly before pointing at a waving figure in the distance. “There he is. Let’s go.”

Louisa ran over to Felix, hopping to a stop in front of him, and Deidrick walked beside me. We arranged ourselves in a circle, with me standing as an outlier in the shape, hanging a few steps back from where I should have stood. Felix noticed this and shifted the circle towards me.

“I have heard so much about you,” Felix smiled broadly and outstretched his hand. “It’s a pleasure.” The way he smiled placed his left canine tooth at the peak of a slope that stopped at the other side of his mouth.

I accepted his hand warily and shook. He had a firm and enthusiastic handshake that matched his smile.

“You too,” I said halfheartedly. “So what’s this about The Castle?”

“I know how to sneak in,” he said, his grin deepening on one side. He quickly and lightly jerked his head back to keep his flaxen hair from falling into his face.

“Where do we go?” Deidrick’s voice was almost at a whisper, even though we were the only ones atop the hill.

“We just have to climb some lattice and get through that window behind me.” While Felix spoke, his smiling hazel eyes were still fixed on me.

Louisa tugged at the ends of her dress, folding the canvas fabric in on itself and tucking the trim into the waistband, turning it into a pair of makeshift harem pants. “I don’t want to go first,” she said, further securing the dress.

“I’ll go first,” I declared, pushing past Felix to the vine enveloped wall, trying to prove myself. Felix followed, then Deidrick, then Louisa.

The vines pressed crisply against my hands and the cobblestone wall smelled like day old rain. The lattice only felt strong enough for one of us at a time, so Felix waited on the ground with the others. As I reached for the sill, an iridescent huntsman spider scurried away from the possibility of being crushed. His eyes sparkled in what little light there was like stars themselves. Louisa was terrified of spiders.

I lifted myself into the window, which was broken, and avoided any stray fragments of stained glass. I motioned down to Felix who stood ready, one foot already placed inside a hole of the lattice. He started climbing with great efficiency. He had clearly done this before.

The floorboards quietly creaked below my feet as I walked further into the room. It was dark. The walls were a dark red and the furniture was almost black in its age. I could only make out where the threshold was because brighter moonlight trickled in from another window in the hallway. I felt around at waist level, my hands outstretched and tapping like antenna. I heard Felix climb up and looked to see his silhouette perfectly poised in the window like Peter Pan. He hopped inside the room with a spring.

“Touch the floor,” he whispered.

I don’t know why, but I did exactly as he said. I reached down and touched the floor. I felt a lump of fur beneath my hand.

“I don’t want you to trip.” I began stroking the fur, exploring what it was I was touching. I felt teeth. “You’re standing right near the head of the bear skin.”

I stood back up and giggled a bit to myself. “Thanks. I would have missed it.”

“No problem.” Felix turned around to investigate the sound of Deidrick struggling to climb through the window.

With a grunt, Deidrick hoisted himself over the window sill, one hand bracing the ledge between his legs and one hand bracing his slight stumble against Felix’s shoulder.

“You’re turn, Louisa,” Deidrick whisper-shouted down to her.

I walked further into the room, the toes of my oxfords brushing against the bear pelt in a hushed swishing sound. I carefully toed the floor; carefully searching for the end of the rug as to not lose my footing per Felix’s suggestion. The leather of my shoe made a quick, harsh tapping sound against a stone floor and I was standing right in front of the doorway into the hall.

As I peeked my head into the hallway, I heard Louisa complaining that she couldn’t make it up the wall. I couldn’t hear if it was because of her dress or because of the spiders but either way, Deidrick assured her that keeping watch was a very important job and she was responsible for all of us.

Felix placed his hand on my shoulder as he crept up behind me.

“You and I take left? Deidrick takes right?” I could hear in his low voice that he was grinning.

 

“Deidrick’s going to probably just stand by the window with Louisa,” I said, staring back at the fairytale scene they seemed to be recreating.

Felix nudged my arm with his elbow; I could hear the tweed of my coat rub against his skin. "Convince him," Felix suggested.

I stood unmoving, with a clearly wary and puzzled look on my face. Felix paused for a moment and let out a sigh. "Because he's our friend."

I couldn't help but wince at the word 'our'. Deidrick was my friend and Felix was a trendy imposter with crazy ideas of adventure and a charming smile. I looked back to Deidrick, who was currently balancing between glass shards, seated on the window sill.

"Diede," I whispered, still loud enough to catch his attention, "Come on." I waved my arm towards myself in an exaggerated command.

"Mind the bear rug," Felix stated nonchalantly, which I read as smugly. 

I could hear Louisa's protests from the ground level and see Deidrick nod his head out the window in reparation to her. "We'll be back," he conceded as he carefully trod over the bear skin rug to the threshold of the room.

As Deidrick met us, Felix breathed a small laugh, stepped over the threshold, turned back to us, and took two confident steps backwards. “Where do we want to go from here?” His hands were ostentatiously outstretched. “The hard part’s over.” 

“I want to see Emperor Otto,” Deidrick exclaimed in a hushed and bursting exhalation.

“Oh,” Felix widened his eyes, the honey color gleaming in the darkness, “We’ll have to look for him. He’s never in the same place twice.”

Felix turned and paced further down the hall to the staircase and Deidrick followed. I stopped them with a short, “Wait.” I made a few hurried steps to catch up to them. “You’re trying to tell me this place is haunted?”

“By Emperor Otto,” Deidrick nodded, enthusiastically.

“Emperor Otto,” I repeated, with a deride grin on my face and a mocking tone. “Who told you that?”

Deidrick shrugged as we continued down the staircase, the wood creaking under our feet. I could see Felix’s grin backlit by the moonlight and realized that he had probably made this up or was at least amused by my quarreling. Neither pleased me.

“No,” I finally spoke sternly, “This place was in ruins and rebuilt fifty years ago. It’s too new to be haunted.”

Felix stopped in his tracks, halfway down the staircase, and faced me. Deidrick took a few steps further and stopped to look up at us. “Haunted has nothing to do with age. It’s about how many people have lived and died here. It was a knight’s castle once and I think that Emperor Otto is in here somewhere. Everything has a soul,” he asserted. “The stones have a soul. The land has a soul and those souls can stain.” His face was suddenly very severe with only hint of the understanding curl to his lips from before as his jovial eyes darkened under a tightened brow.

I scoffed and took a step down. Felix did not. I could feel his heavy gaze on me as I moved to stand with Deidrick. It was cocksure and commanding but not threatening. Without turning around I added, “Fine. It can be as haunted as you’d like, Felix.” With that, Felix joined us at the foot of the staircase. 

We found ourselves standing in the entrance to an extraordinary parlor. In the center hung an extinguished brass chandelier; the metal caught moonlight from a high window and scattered it in golden slivers to dance around the crimson room. One of these slivers played over Felix’s skin and bisected his face from hairline to throat, hovering over his eye and glittering. 

“We should split up.” Felix’s voice bit into the room with low echo. I could see Deidrick’s eyes scanning the room quickly; he was panicking. He didn’t want to split up, and honestly, neither did I. I wanted to climb back down the castle, back down the hill, and grab my school books.

But instead, I said, “I want to see the ballroom.” My lips betrayed me. Before I could even think of what to say, the words shot out of my mouth.

Felix smiled, the tip of his canine tooth glimmering as he nodded a direction for me. “Second to last door on the left side,” he spoke. “It’s beautiful.”

I nodded back to him and began walking down the dark hallway. He and Deidrick stayed together.

The hall wasn't as long or grand as I had imagined a castle's hallway to be. The dark wood panels made it seem smaller and encompassing as my cautious footsteps echoed so closely to my ears. I could hear Deidrick's hurried whispers muffle and fade into the distance as I walked past an open archway, the reverberation refracting into the chamber instead of bouncing back from the end of the hall. I peered into the ballroom, alone in the silence, and imagined what it looked like lit and alive, stirring with violin quartets and dancing couples. The floor was a rosy maple wood with shapes sliced into the dance floor in a circular pattern centering at the exact middle of the room. At this center point, the acoustics were impeccable. I could hear my own heartbeat jumping back to me off the painted ceiling and ornate walls. There was a grand chandelier that hung like a giant spider to the ceiling, complete with webs and small dusty hairs clinging to the many legs. It was dizzying. I twirled in small circles to stare at all the details, appraising the continuous symmetry of the room. My arms outstretched and my spinning slowly turned into some kind of dancing. For a moment, in my mind, there was a small chance that the knights might still be in the castle, in the ballroom, and I laughed to myself.

It was fun imagining myself as a knight at court, surrounded by dark stone walls, fur pelts, handsome warriors and fair maidens. So I kept spinning. I kept dancing. I had never heard this much silence in my life. I had never felt this much solitude. It was so peaceful. 

Then, I heard a click in the threshold. I stopped mid twirl and turned to see Felix standing in the doorway. I was embarassed and I was expecting some smart quip about what he'd seen. I was too girlish or if I wouldn't feel better outside with Louisa but all that came out of his mouth was, "I told you the ballroom was beautiful."

He walked in slowly, almost dragging his feet, testing his proximity to me. When he reached halfway between me and the archway he stopped. "I come here to think sometimes," he paused. He looked as if he were about to add something, but he didn't. He just stood there in the ballroom, completely backlit. I couldn't read his expression, couldn't see anything apart from a silhouetted stray hair that was floating out of place.

We both heard a scream and jumbled footsteps running back up the stairs. Felix turned on his heels and sprung down the hallway, back the way we came. I sprinted after him.

As I rounded the hallway, I caught the blurred figure of Deidrick darting back into the study at the top of the stairs. From the foot of the staircase, Felix gave me an incredulous look. I could hear a hushed whimpering as I imagine Deidrick hurried down the castle wall back to Louisa. 

"You think he saw a ghost?" Felix shrugged and began pacing.

"No," I replied flatly. "I think he heard his own feet creak or an echo," I walked past Felix toward additional rooms, "or maybe he heard me in the ballroom. I don't know." I finally added, exhausted from all of the conversations pertaining to apparitions.

I walked into a room that appeared to be a trophy room. The walls were lined with antlers and a musky smell hung in the air. There was a glittering glass cabinet with a crystal scotch decanter and matching glasses sitting atop it. I moved over to the decanter, pulled the stopper, and inhaled deeply the aroma of oak and alcohol. It burned my nostrils.

Felix now stood next to me and took the decanter from my hands, pouring himself a glass. He took insignificant sips. I could tell he didn't like the taste but he pretended he did.

He looked at me through his lashes and held the glass to me, offering me a taste. I declined.

Felix followed fairly close behind me, taking smaller steps to avoid spilling the scotch, taking more frequent pauses to look at the trophies. He seemed to be particularly interested in an outstretched peacock. He waved his free hand over the crest plumes and sighed. "It's definitely lost its shine over the years. He used to be iridescent." He sighed again. "He's not very pretty anymore."

"He's dead," I turned my shoulders to look at Felix. He looked genuinely disheartened. 

As I turned back around, my face came very close to pressing against a white sheet draped over some furniture. I chuckled a bit to myself and motioned for Felix to look. "I found Emperor Otto."

I could hear his hurried steps and a small, breathy laugh. "What is it?

"I'm not sure," I replied, my back still turned to him as I curled my hand around the cloth. With a slight tug, the cloth fell to the floor and revealed a tall, golden mirror. The sheet slipped into a pool around the ornate feet with a dampened and continuous thud. The reflective surface brought additional light into the chamber and I could see Felix behind me, his glass still mostly full. I stared at him through the reflection. The light casted a slight glow around both our faces and illuminated the glassy eyes of the trophies. Felix's eyes were the same color as the gilded filigree.

We stared at it for a few moments, observing the surroundings. The room was. at the least, very fascinating. Felix moved to set the glass, still half full, back on the cabinet when he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Did you hear that?" He asked, taking a small, shuffling step forward.

Before I could answer, I saw, in the reflection, the large wooden doors of the front entrance creak open. My heart was in my throat. I could hear people speaking outside.

"We can make it to the stairs," Felix whispered hurried and passionately, almost daring. "The doors are heavy, if we go now-"

I cut him off with my sprint. The path to the staircase was past the door, so considering our options wasn't really a choice at the moment. I heard his footsteps behind me. His gait seemed to be longer than mine but my heart was beating so quickly that he couldn't out run me. 

As we reached the top of the stairs, the double doors finally swung open with three laughing drunks tumbling inside. I quickly ran over the study threshold to dodge any leftover light trickling into the castle and hit my foot against the bear skin rug. I didn’t trip, but I felt the fur catch onto my shoes, dragging my feet somewhat. Louisa and Deidrick were long gone.

I hurdled over the window into the darkness, grappling to the lattice as I was mid fall. I could hear Felix scurrying. I watched him also climb out the shattered window. He flinched as he let go of the sill and continued in a hurried pace down the castle facade.

When I hit the ground, I started running. I didn’t stop until my legs were filled with a numb throbbing and my lungs couldn’t hold anymore air. I lost the sound of Felix panting behind me, darting in different directions, trying to catch up. I lost him and just ran home. No books. No Louisa. No Deidrick. Just home.

The next morning I woke up to my mother asking me about Felix.

“Have you met him?” I asked, suspiciously.

“He came by this morning and left this for you,” she replied, her voice soft and kind, as she produced my school books from the counter. “He seems very nice,” she added. “I don’t know why I haven’t met him before.”

“He’s a friend of Deidrick’s,” I mentioned as I took the books from her and inspected them.

I opened the book at the top of the stack and looked at the inside front cover. There was a note, and some small traces of bloody fingerprints.

I found your books by the lake and brought them back. I hope you’re not too angry with me and I hope we meet again.

~Felix

I was suddenly worried about whether or not Felix was hurt.


	2. January 18th, 1941

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter from Felix's perspective from later on in the story. Just thought I'd share it for now.

January 18th, 1941

I found Thomas. Our troop was sent into the containment area to trade supplies with the guards there. I saw him watching me from a shop window. His dark eyes lit up and I could see the fraction of a smile curling onto his lips.

“We don’t need canned beans. We need bullets.” The guard pushed his hat back further on his head and scratched at the front his cropped hair.

“We also need bullets,” Abel stressed, lowering his eyes nervously.

“We only have beans to give.” My voice was languid as my attention was focused on Thomas. His ears moved when he smiled, like a cat playing. His ears looked even bigger than they used to, as did his eyes; he was shrunken.

My eyes shifted back to the guard. “It looks like the place could use some.”

Abel’s hand dug into my elbow harshly as he looked at me with veins straining in his neck.

“You don’t mean we should feed the animals,” the guard’s brow furrowed, “do you?”

I laughed and nudged Abel away from me. “No,” I bowed slightly. “I only meant that you could be fatter.” At this point, Abel’s body went rigid next to me. He twiddled with the watch in his pocket timidly, a small quiver to his lips.

There was a sharp and precise moment where I didn’t care what happened next. My face formed a slight apology to Thomas through the deformed glass window and he echoed the same face back to me. Our brows were knitted up and our lips flattened.

The guard bellowed with laughter. “And you as well,” he shouted through breath catching sighs. Abel relaxed. Surprisingly.

The guard collected the supplies and handed us some. It was mostly an exchange of foods. We received what they didn’t like, they received what we didn’t like. We came out with more medical supplies. Our troop is meant to see actual war, if we’re good enough. Here, they’re just glorified bulls in a pen.

Abel’s face turned sharply to me as the guard turned his back finally. His face contorted into variations of beginning sentences before he grabbed his glasses off of his face and decided on, “You could have gotten us killed.”

I nodded my head to him and smiled, still watching Thomas. “I didn’t though.” I could see Abel’s face turning a red to match his hair.

“Do not be so reckless,” his voice hissed at a higher pitch than normal. “You might not care about yourself, but I care about you,” he paused, “and me for that matter.” He sighed as I walked away towards the storefront. “Just don’t give everything the opportunity to kill us.”

“I won’t,” I waved back to Abel, my eyes still on Thomas. I reached the building and stared at him through the glass pane. My reflection in the glass merged with his image, placing a healthier color on his graying skin.

I smiled. 

I ducked my head under the door frame and walked into the building. There was a wet stench that clung to the walls and the air seemed thicker for it. There was a small layer of water that covered the floor.

“I found you,” I said. I was smiling, but my eyes were rimmed and reddened with tears. The black of his eyes were swimming as well, reflecting the filth around us like pools.

He began crying. It wasn’t gentle crying. It was a panicked, messy, nose-leaking crying. His thin shoulders shuddered and his face contorted into harsh lines around his eyes. I had never seen someone so broken. I moved closer to wrap my arms around him but he jumped back in a way that showed flinching had become a reflex. 

“Better you didn’t,” he managed through sobs.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and steadied him. “What are they going to do? Shoot a German soldier?”

His head jerked toward me at the thought and his face confirmed that, yes, in fact, they would. As he stared at me, his eyes adjusted and he stopped crying. Thomas finally softened under my hand and straightened his back, face returning to a neutral expression. Without moving my hand on his shoulder, I reached into my pocket and handed him a handkerchief. Thomas began to dry the wetness that streaked down his face and stopped for a moment to inhaled the clean linen scent of the cloth. 

He extended the handkerchief to me and I shook my head. “It’s yours,” I said casually.

“I see you haven’t changed,” he tried to laugh through sniffling, holding the handkerchief up to his nose again.

“You have.” I tried to smile a convincing and comforting smile, but it only read as pity. It was pity, to be honest. “Sit down and talk to me. I want to know what’s happened.”

Thomas hobbled to take a seat on a nearby chair and winced. I took a seat and watched as he knitted his brow and sighed. Something was wrong but I wanted him to tell me in his own time.

“It’s been a scheisse few months,” Thomas pinched just above the slight hump of his nose and let out a defeated chortle. He looked up at me with a grin, “Your high-society aesthetic wouldn’t have made it. You’d have been the first one to go.”

I nodded, “You’ve always been the stronger one.” I tried to be encouraging. When he smiled at me, I could see that his lips pressed too harshly against his teeth, already giving him a skeletal face.

I paused for a moment, just staring at him. He was so fragile; nothing like the young German man - and he is German - from just a few months prior. He has suffered. He has suffered greatly and I don’t know what to do besides be here next to him.

“What can I do?” I whispered, halfway to myself. In this moment, I looked at Thomas and thought of my suffering. I thought about how the man I love is reduced to a sniffling, boney, crying mess and I thought selfishly about my pain. “I want to fix it.”

Thomas looked at me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Felix,” he said, a shadow sweeping over his expression, “there is nothing you can do.”

My eyes burned and I stilled my lips, preventing twitches that betrayed my thoughts. I leaned in closer. “I can secure rations. I can ,” I stopped, collecting myself, “I can fix your feet for fuck’s sake.” My hands were shaking and my voice raised.

“Why? They look like everyone else’s here.” I felt his words deep in my gut and the nonchalantness in the way he spoke gave me chills.

“Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll find a way to stay here.”

“You’ll become one of them?” Thomas’ dark eyes darted out the window to some of the guards.

“If I have to.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

It was Thomas’ turn to look at me with pity. “No,” he shook his head softly, his dark waves of hair bouncing with the movement. “Don’t do that.”

From outside, Abel waved to me and tapped his outstretched pocket watch. We needed to get back to our troop. I stood, took Thomas’ hand in mine and promised, “I will be back. Tomorrow, the day after,” I smiled, “I will be back.”

His eyes smiled slightly but the corners of his lips stayed flat. I nodded and repeated, “I will be back.”

I scurried outside and waved to Abel as I caught up to him. As we walked out of the encampment, Abel removed his glasses, cleaned the lenses on his sleeve, and looked at me. “I’m not going to ask what that was,” he cleared his throat and carefully placed his glasses back on his face, “but you need to consider if it’s worth risking your life.”

"I don't know what you're talking about." Holding his gaze, my lips stiffened into a shaking and courteous smile.

Stopping, Abel turned to me and placed a soft hand on my shoulder. The weight of his hand was heavy and caused the straps of my knapsack to dig into the apex of my collar bone. His blue eyes dulled into a muddy grey as he stared at me with a crease in his brow, squinting through his glasses. Flicking his tongue across his bottom lip, he prepared to say something, but stopped himself with a deep sigh. Abel searched my face for a moment before nodding.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Felix," he added in a defeated breath before turning and walking a few paces. He was walking quickly, almost angrily, away from me and we walked the majority of the distance in silence.

When we returned to our troop, Wolfe greeted us warmly and helped us with our bags. He searched through them to reorganize the supplies, digging his mud crusted fingernails to the bottom of the sack and looking up to Abel wearing a puzzled look. Abel shrugged.

"You knew The Party wouldn't give us any supplies. I knew it," Abel sighed. "We all knew it." 

"Well," Wolfe smiled, "it was worth a try." While he seemed dissapointed at the quantity of medical supplies we secured, he also seemed pleased with the diversity that could now be added the menu, which is better than nothing. "At least we have corn now."

The stiffness in Abel's frame relaxed when he saw Wolfe smiling. "You're right, Emil. I shouldn't say anything else on the matter." Rolling his shoulders back, Abel massaged a tight knot on the nape of his neck and sighed. "Not anywhere James can hear at least."

Abel shot a piercing glance at me and tightened his lips into a half smile.

"Can I," I took a step closer to Abel, "speak with you for a moment?"

Eyes widening attentively, Abel nodded. As I tilted my head towards the outskirts of the campsite, Abel looked back at Emil.

"Don't worry, I can sort out the supplies." Wolfe waved to us as he piled cans on the ground next to him. "Go talk."

When we reached far enough that no one else could hear us, I stopped Abel with a hand on his shoulder. He was thin and my palm folded around the bones of his shoulder.

"Firstly," I explained plainly, "I would like to apologize to you." Under my gaze, Abel's eyes softened into a weak smile. "You're right; I shouldn't have been so," I paused, searching for the right word, "indolent."

"I feel like you're baiting me for something awful after that sincere apology." Abel's eyes were playful and waiting as I scrunched up my nose apologetically with a quick nod. His smile dropped into annoyance and I grinned sheepishly.

"So I want to explain what happened at the ghetto." Before I could finish my thought, Abel interrupted me by clearing his throat.

"I don't want to know," he shushed me. "If I don't know, I can't say anything." His eyes hardened. "Please, please don't tell me."

It was my turn to interrupt him with exasperation lacing my words. "I won't tell you, but you need to tell me how to fix gangrene."

As worry flooded his face, Abel's eyes whitened to a pale and crystaline blue. "Amputation," he stuttered nervously. "Who has gangrene?"

I cocked my head, raised a brow, and locked eyes. "No one you care about," I said flatly.

"You don't know what you're saying." Abel's voice was soft but agitated, as if he was swallowing harsher words that buzzed behind his teeth. "I care a lot. I just care more about my family."

"Then help me," I whispered urgently, fingers digging into his shoulder. "Abel, what would you do if it were your wife? Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

There was a drawn out pause that seemed to fill the space between us with a shadow. With a long blink, Abel's puzzed and iritated expression faded into a blank slate. "Boyhood friend?" He asked with an exhausted smile and knowing eyes.

I nodded.

Exhaling, Abel paused and bit the inside of his cheek. "Is it really gangrene? Or is it trench foot?"

"I don't know, Abel. That's why I'm asking you. Just come see him." My voice was heavy. "He won't even show me."

Abel fidgeted where he stood, imperceptivly rocking back and forth as he tapped his fingers nervously against his leg. He knitted and unknitted his brow several times before sighing. "We'll have to be quick and I'm only going to assess things. I can't give you resources, but I can tell you what to do."

A knot in my chest ignited as I heard his words. My eyes welled as I grabbed Abel by the shoulders and pulled him close to me. "Tomorrow," I nodded.


End file.
